Something Precious
by SasuNaruForever17
Summary: America had what every kid did. A blanket.


_Something Preciou**s**_

For a few years of America's life, he carried around a blanket. It was like his brother, Canada, did with a bear (that so happened to be real, but France didn't care in the least). England knew it was just a faze. The boy would grow out of it within a few years or so.

While America carried around the blanket England had made for him, it sometimes got a little dirty. America tried to be careful with it, but he wanted to take it _everywhere_. England had learned to just let the boy take it wherever he went. One time he had tried to say no. Big mistake. America threw the worst tantrum ever. So, England just let him take it, knowing there was no use in fighting.

It was made of wool dyed a soft sky blue. There wasn't really any design on it, except for small square patches that held little bundles of feathers. It was America's companion on stormy nights, play time, and outside exploration. It was one of his best friends.

England knew sooner or later America would forget about the blanket. Instead of throwing it out, England would keep it. It was a part of America's childhood, something that was precious to him and something he hoped would be remembered by America when he grew older.

Some days, America would come crying to England that he couldn't find the blanket anywhere. They would spend the day looking and eventually finding it somewhere hidden for safe keeping. America would say that he'd forgotten that he put the blanket to sleep. England then would wash it carefully, America being his helpful self; scrubbing it and then watching it dry in the breeze.

England wondered how the blanket managed to stay in such good shape. Other than getting dirty and sporting a few stains, it never ripped. He was sure that the material was getting old and wore by now. It would just take time he supposed.

Then that day came, and it was _dreadful._

America had been playing nicely with Canada. Everything was going great, until England announced it was nap time. America got settled down with his blanket and offered to share it with his brother. Canada accepted and the boys lay sleeping soundly for a little while. England sat in the living room with them, having a cup of tea. He was going to get out a book, but then heard a small whine that he knew America had made.

England looked over to the boys and saw that Canada had taken all of the small blanket, leaving America with none. America lay curled up on himself, shivering. England watched as he opened an eye and grabbed the blanket, pulling it off his brother and onto himself. England found it a little adorable, so he continued watching.

Canada made a small noise before turning bleary eyes to America. He pulled on the blanket, trying to get himself a part of it. America pulled back, keeping it to himself. England observed the tugging war silently, until it was starting to get out of hand. America and Canada each held a side of the blanket, pulling back and forth.

England frowned. He didn't want them fighting. He was about to intervene when all of a sudden, the blanket split down the middle, ripping into two parts. America and Canada fell back from each other, a piece in their hands.

Then, America took one look at his brother before bawling his head off. Canada decided it a good idea to join him.

England sighed. It had been such a nice day too. He got up and went to the boys.

"There there. It's just a blanket. Maybe next time you should think before you act."

America stared at him, eyes dripping tears and lips stuck in a pout. He crawled over to England, giving the piece of blanket to him.

"Fix it."

England looked at the material in his hands. He could fix it, but it would take some time to sew it all back together.

"How about we get you a new blanket? I'm sure that there-"

"NO!"

America stared crying again (Canada hadn't stopped) and England was forced to please the boy.

"Okay. I'll fix it. But before I do, you need to apologize to Canada. Actually, you both need to say sorry."

England backed away, watching the two boys. America stood and walked over to his brother. He plopped down in front of the weeping boy and kissed his cheek.

"I'm sorry Mattie."

Canada wiped his eyes and nodded his head.

"Me too."

England smiled at them. Those were his boys alright.

"America, can you get my sewing kit?"

America got up and ran for it, knowing that it was in England's bedroom. A few minutes later he returned with it and gave it to him. Canada came over and handed the other piece of blanket to England. Now, he could start.

All three sat on the couch. It was a slow and steady go, but America watched. He wanted to see the magic England preformed on his blanket. Canada feel asleep halfway through it, curled up against England's left side. America sat on his right, watching as the needle threaded through the cloth.

"Does the needle hurt my blankie?"

England paused. "Why don't you ask it?"

America smiled and asked his blanket if it was hurting. He pressed his ear to it, listening. A few seconds later he lifted his head up.

"He says it doesn't!"

England let out a laugh before continuing. America was such an adorable kid. While he wanted him to grow up to be big and strong, England loved him how he was now. A little kid just learning all about the world. He was going to miss this America. At least he would have his memories.

He finished on the blanket and held it up, looking it over. You couldn't really tell that it had even been ripped. He handed it over to America's grabbing fingers. He was about to ask America what he was suppose to say, but the boy beat him to it.

"Thanks England!"

America hugged himself to England's side, adjusting the blanket so it covered his whole body. It was warm and comfortable. England placed his arms around both boys and decided that a nap for himself couldn't hurt.

He feel asleep, half cup of tea left cold.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I cannot resist baby!America. He has taken over my mind! :)  
><strong>


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